Le Pew and the Beast
by Nicki Fowl
Summary: A foreign dealer led to the states. A deprived woman left to die in a back alley. Meetings like this often confuse lust for love. This is not one of those situations. Join Pepe and his girlfriend Penny as they discover the beauty, the strength, and the price of true love together, in the story of Le Pew and the Beast. (M for personal safety, and sensitive topics) - Nicki Fowl


Le Pew and the Beast

Short Story

By: Nicki Fowl

**Before I begin, I have a request.**

**This fic is something I wanted to do because it wouldn't leave me alone, but even so, I feel that this would be cool to have as a comic somewhere like PalComix or something. If you're interested or know someone who'd be interested in making a comic of this, just send me a PM or look me up as Yugijak on Deviant Art. As long as you contact me first (and let me know if it will be made for cash or pro bono), I'll put it into consideration, though it's unlikely I'll turn it down.**

**And now, I'd like to introduce the short story Le Pew and the Beast.**

**As Pepé might say in France, **_**"Profitez de la courte histoire."**_**(Enjoy the short story)**

**PS: This story was inspired by a picture titled 'Pepé le Pew's Girlfriend', a picture of the nameless feminine 'skunk' **_**dans le chamois**_** and looks rather neat…despite being a nude picture, **_**désirables**_** included. (Translation: It's a nude drawing with all the 'goodies' up for display) If I find the URL, I'll be sure to put it up at some point in the story so you know where the idea came from. I stored a copy of it on my IPod as a form of reminding inspiration, and needless to say the method works fantastic for helping me remember what I'm doing.**

**And now, Le Pew and the Beast.**

_**Au revoir!**_

**Le Pew and the Beast: Chapter 1**

Detective: Okay, the time is 12…57 in the afternoon on August the 15th, 2014.

Detective: Would you please state your name and occupation for the record, sir?

? : Gladly. My name is Pepé, Pepé le Pew. I work in the field of distribution.

Detective: From the record it looks like you were a French drug dealer, Mr. le Pew.

Le Pew: I prefer the term 'source'. I liked to help people get what it is they required. A little profit on the side didn't hurt though.

Detective: So you're a wheeler dealer, is that right Mr. le Pew?

Le Pew: Yes, if you must use that particular term, I was a 'wheeler dealer'.

Detective: Pardon the interruption, but did you say 'was', Mr. le Pew? I was under the impression that you still are a dealer.

Le Pew: Well, that was the same impression I myself was under when I first crossed over to America. _Intéressant_ how things change when you do not expect them to, eh, detective?

Detective: Fair enough. Though I must ask, what inspired the change?

Le Pew: Why must you ask?

Detective: Partly because it's my job. Partly because I'm genuinely curious.

Le Pew: Fair enough answer. To be honest, I don't really know. But if I were to take a guess, I'd have to say it was _her_.

Detective: Her, Mr. le Pew? Are you by chance referring to the woman at the center of this case?

Le Pew: Precisely. It seems that it all comes back to her.

Detective: It certainly does, Mr. le Pew.

Le Pew: By the way detective, you know my name, but I do not know yours. Would you be so kind as to enlighten me?

Detective: All in time, doc, all in time…

Le Pew: Ah, so it's you…

Detective: We need to stick to the subject. I would like to request a statement, Mr. le Pew.

Le Pew: Very well, what is it you would like to hear about?

Detective: We've heard all about this woman, but to be honest, we haven't seen hide or hair of her except for some loose strands of fur and a few eyewitness accounts. There's a fog of mystery around this goil, and I'd like to see if you'd be able to clear it up for us back at the office.

Le Pew: I understand.

Detective: To be blunt, there's a lot of mystery around you as well, Mr. le Pew. So if it's not too much trouble, I'd like to ask that you tell me about the time you first came to America. Why did you come here? How did you miss this goil, this 'Penny' is it? And most importantly, what part do _you_ play in all this?

Le Pew: So you want to hear the story from the beginning, from when I first came here, correct?

Detective: Correct indeed, doc.

Le Pew: Well, it's a rather unusual story, and it will certainly take some time to tell. You might want to get comfortable, _monsieur._ Carrot cigar?

Detective: I'm trying to quit for good old Lols, don't want her to worry about me anymore.

Le Pew: Ah, but of course, and how is Lols?

Detective: Please stay on topic, Mr. le Pew.

Le Pew: Very well, for you, my old friend. It started about a couple of weeks ago or thereabouts, in fact I believe my arrival was on August 1 at around 10 in the morning. The sun was high in the sky, and the jet lag had done a number on me…

August 1, 10:07 A.M., Queens John F. Kennedy Int. Airport

I was rather ornery that morning, as the attendant had just awoken me from a nap, and I was not very fond of being woken up. I feel rather guilty for the incredibly rude and rather mean things I had called her and her _mére_, her mother. I know that she had understood me at some level, because she'd run away in tears.

I know I can be quite a gentleman when the mood strikes me, but unfortunately I can also be a cruel _bâtard_ when I become irritated.

I got off of the jet and had to raise my hand to block out the sun which peered menacingly through the windows.

I had chosen an unusual dress for that fall day. I wore a black leather breaker to keep me warm, with blue jeans and a t-shirt to help me blend in. The t-shirt had some band on it that I was unfamiliar with at the time, though when I think on it, I believe it was for a group called 'Green Day' and their song 'American Idiot', which I now find rather amusing for me to be wearing at that time, since that was exactly what I thought of them. My feet were inside trainers that my American client had requested I wear 'to avoid suspicion'.

I checked my watch, which said 4 in the afternoon, but that couldn't be right. The attendant had said we'd be touching down at 10, right on schedule. Of course I'd forgotten that I was six full hours ahead of everyone else.

I muttered something to myself, probably that iconic 'stupid Americans' phrase foreign countries are apparently so fond of using.

Right then, I had to wonder; did I board the wrong flight? My client had said I was to meet him in Queens, but I didn't remember where our plane was supposed to be landing. What if, for some inexplicable reason, I'd landed on the other side of the continent, and I'd have to find my way to New York on a moment's notice. Believe it or not, something similar happened to me once on an Egyptian contract. I had to bribe a caravan to carry me all the way across the Sahara, only to find out that they were bandits and wanted all my things. THAT was a rather pleasant surprise.

I rushed for the nearest announcement board. 'John F. Kennedy International Airport. Queens.'

That was a great relief.

So now I was in the middle of New York. My client told me he would contact me once I crossed into American soil, but I hadn't received a call. So I had to wait.

I hadn't even sat down when my phone started buzzing in my pocket. Rather coincidental, you might think, but I'd learned quickly that with this man there was no coincidence.

I answered, and sure enough, it was him.  
"Ah, Mr. le Pew, it's nice to see that you've arrived. Are you comfortable in that chair?"  
"Please, enough small talk, let's get to business."  
"Why are you so grouchy, Mr. le Pew? I even waited for you to make yourself comfortable in the arrival lounge before I called."

You see? No such thing as coincidence with him.  
"Please, let's just get to our arrangement."  
"No need to loose your temper, Mr. le Pew. After all, you are in my home country."  
"So this is where you've been hiding?"  
"Somewhat yes and somewhat no, I can't have my rivals pinning down my whereabouts, can I?"  
"What do you mean?"  
"To business, Mr. le Pew."

I hated when he'd do that.  
"To business then. Where are we supposed to meet for the transaction?"  
"Mr. le Pew, I'm afraid there have been some, ah, _changes_."

The way he said the word 'changes' made me feel I was about to be screwed over.  
"Don't mess with me, I know some tough people."  
"And they are all on my payroll, Mr. le Pew. As are you, if you'd remember correctly. You and all your 'friends' depend on me to keep you supplied so you don't fall through the cracks. You of everyone know this to be true."  
"Just tell me what changes have been made to the plans?"  
"Well, for starters, the date has been pushed back a few days."  
"So why did you have me come anyway?"  
"Well, I need some people to do a bit of a check on you, in case you've been _singing_ for anyone lately."  
"So you don't trust me?"  
"Oh no, it's not you I don't trust. I trust your heart to stop if poison grips it. I trust your lungs to fail if you try my concrete flippers. I trust your skull to cave in when a sniper's bullet hits it. You I trust, it's your _actions_ and background I feel need inspection."

Normally, I'm not easily frightened. But with the casual way he just spouted off those threats, I felt like I was about to break out in a shaky, ice cold sweat.  
"Would you please not threaten me?"  
"Mr. le Pew, you hurt me. I don't threaten a person, that's what thugs are for. I simply make promises I have others keep. Are we clear?"

I had to swallow to keep my nerves steady, "We are clear."  
"Good. Now then, I've arranged an apartment for you over in the Bronx. However, I first need you to go to the Empire State Building."  
"What for?"  
CLICK!  
BEEP-BEEP-BEEP!  
CLACK!

"I seriously hate that man."

Unfortunately, I had no choice. He told me that I'd have to go to the Empire State Building before heading to the Bronx. Obviously he did that so I'd have to do some work before I could get to my apartment. I really wasn't in the mood to do a favor before I got some rest, but it wouldn't bode well for my health if I refused.

The only question was: how do I get there?

Well, first I'd need a map. Luckily someone had dropped there's in the bag pick-up. Since I didn't have any luggage (another little 'requirement') I had to think on my feet to get there.

I decided to hitch a ride. Thankfully someone offered when they saw that I was lost. I told them where I was headed, and they politely offered to take me there.

Well, who was I to refuse that? Especially when they weren't insistent I ride with them.

That's what suckered me in.

Idiot.

The moment I got in the car, I knew I'd screwed up.

The driver, a pelican, looked at me through the mirror.  
"So, you're Mr. le Pew, eh?"  
"What makes you say that?"  
"Boss man told us to expect you. Said you'd be headed for the Empire State Building."  
"How annoying."  
"Hey, I'm just here to teach youse a few things."  
"Youse?"  
"Sorry, accent. Point is, boss man told me ta keep an eye on youse and make sure that youse didn't end up hung in a back alley for ya wallet."  
"That fake accent is getting really annoying."  
"What?! How did you?!"  
"Try keeping 'Australian' out of your voice when you're trying to sound like a gangster."  
"Grr. Alright, you got me. But seriously, the boss told me to teach you a few things about the way the Big Apple works."  
"So you're the reason I'm supposed to go the Empire State Building."  
"Bingo."  
"So it was all a ruse…"  
"…To see if you'd really been listening and making sure you didn't do something stupid. Boss calls it 'a test of character' but I call it 'a pain in my ass'."  
"No arguments there."

The driver flipped the bird at someone coasting in the left lane. "Oi! Dumbass! Quit fingering your girlfriend at the wheel and drive like you mean it!"

Pepé twinged. "Sorry about that, but that's lesson one of living in New York: Don't take shit from anybody when you can help it. Let one person walk all over you, and you might as well bend over for a-"  
"Alright I get it!"  
"Didn't expect you to be a pussy."  
"I'm not very fond of foul speech."  
"Quit being such a -"

The driver swerved to avoid an old lady in the middle of the street. "Red means ya dead if ya cross, asshole!"  
"That was a very old lady! She might have been confused!"  
"Then she should have someone taking care of her! Don't be fooled. That's lesson 2. Nothing is what it looks like here in the Big Apple. Bit of advice. When you're not sure, don't get too close. Keep a bit of paranoia on the brain and you'll be perfectly fine."

The driver turned his attention back to the road. "By the way, I thought that you foreign folk were bothered more by gore than by sex."  
"I'm not that bothered by either, depending on the context."  
"The what?"  
"Just keep driving."  
"Whatever."

Pepé saw as the pelican ran three consecutive red lights without stopping, and felt that it might not have been the smartest thing to take up that drive offer.  
"By the way, I never caught your name."  
"I never gave it, Mr. le Pew."  
"Would you mind giving it now?"  
"Yes."

My last thought before he nearly broke my neck with a sudden stop was, _'Fine, Mr. Hard ass, be that w-'_  
SCREECH!

He hadn't even noticed that my head had been lodged in his detachable headrest until he'd turned around to open my door.

Well, at least I'd survived.

Some had to be wrong, because we weren't in front of the Empire State Building; instead, we were in front of a three level apartment complex that had 'condemned' tape all over it.

I couldn't help myself.  
"Where in God's name have you taken me?"  
"Your complex."  
"Excuse me?"

The pelican took a strand of the tape and ripped it off the door. "Don't worry about the tape. It's fake, it was a trick the boss used to get this place away from prying eyes. It's actually perfectly safe."  
"Somehow I'm not reassured."

The pelican looked incontent with what was going on. "To be honest, I don't blame you. The very fact he set you up in the Bronx makes me wonder what the boss was thinking. Then again, he thinks of everything, so you probably aren't in any danger."  
"Danger? What do you mean by danger?"

The pelican unlocked the door and looked me in the eye, "A bit of advice, learn to blend in. The Bronx will hammer down on anyone that sticks out. Got that?"  
"I got it."

Then the pelican led me into the bottom level of the building.  
"Well, this is your place. You should have everything you need in here. Someone will come by with a few things to replace the clothes you were unable to bring."

I nodded at him, my hand already stroking my chin in thought, "Thank you, who should I look for?"  
"You'll be called by name when he comes by."  
"Thank you for the heads up."  
"Rick."  
"Excuse me?"  
"Rick Redwing. That's my name. If you need some help, just ask one of the people you'll be keeping in touch with for me, and I'll come in a heartbeat."  
"Why the sudden change of heart."

The pelican smiled at me as he walked out the door, "Because the boss man ain't the only one paying my bill, Mr. le Pew."

And like that, he was gone.

And not two seconds later…  
BUZZ!  
CLACK!  
"Ah, Mr. le Pew, it's nice to know you can follow orders!"  
"Like I had a choice…"  
"Well, it appears you also aren't a complete fool, either. Good. The only fools I employ are the ones I use as demonstrations. Now, I believe you still lack the necessary information to make our meeting on time, correct?"  
"And let me guess…you are going to tell me when and where?"  
"The when certainly. The where…that's going to have to wait."  
"Until when."  
"Until the time of the meeting, obviously."  
"Then how will I get there on time?"  
"Oh, it appears that you lack faith in your employer, Mr. le Pew. I'm hurt."  
"That doesn't answer my-"  
"Patience, Mr. le Pew. Now, as for the when, it should be about a week and a half from now on August 12, 2:00 P.M."  
"That still doesn't answer my-"  
CLICK!  
BEEP-BEEP-BEEP!  
CLACK!  
"Damn it…"

Well, one thing was for sure, I was a fish caught on a hook, and I'd have to wait to see where it led me.

With nothing to do, I felt like retiring, but I unfortunately had to wait until the person with my things would come by.

Once again, a fish on a hook.

As I waited, I decided to take a look around, and the more I saw, the more this felt like _his_ form of a sick joke.

The entire room had wood walls that looked like they'd been ripped from a sinking old world pirate ship. The couch had a hole with stuffing coming out of it, and a stain that I hoped wasn't urine near a leg on the bottom left side, opposite the whole. The room was lit by a single flickering bulb, with a chain for a switch.

I went into the kitchen and was relieved to find it at the very least in half-decent condition. The walls were linoleum, and in far better condition that the ones in the living room, but in one or two places, a tile was missing. The fridge looked like it had seen better days, but the interior was perfectly fine and it didn't seem to have any problems. The stove was gas, but that wasn't the worst thing, and at least there was a working microwave over it. Not my preferred spot, but it had a light with a real switch and it wasn't a bulb so I didn't see any problem.

The cabinets and fridge were fully stocked, and there were even dishes, silverware, pots, and pans. So that wasn't that bad. Then I saw the red stain hidden inside the corner cabinet, and though I prayed it wasn't blood, the cabinet was both empty and large enough, even with the folding corner door, to fit me. I closed it gingerly, deciding to have some words with my client and apparently employer the next time he called.

At least the TV in front of the couch had cable.

Though instead of taking to the couch and watching Charmed, I decided to see if I could get upstairs. For some reason, the door at the top of the stairs was locked tight. I couldn't help but wonder what my client was hiding up those stairs.

Then I heard a knock at the door. "Mr. le Pew? Are you busy at the moment?"  
"No. Are you the one with my things?"  
"Yes I am, Mr. le Pew. I have them right here. Would you mind opening the door?"

I remembered what Rick had said and decided to look through the peep-hole before opening up. It was a squirrel with at least half a dozen boxes.

I opened the door and saw the UPS truck. That was a surprise.  
"Mr. le Pew?"  
"Yes?"  
"Sign here please."  
"Very well. What is in all of these boxes?"  
"Hell if I know. From what I read on the order, they're clothes, some bath supplies, and that's all I could tell from the list."  
"Why couldn't you figure out what else was in them?"  
"Need to know basis, for some reason. Anyway, I'll be on my way, Mr. le Pew."  
"Good."

But just as I turned around…  
"Mr. le Pew!"

I turned around in time to catch a key.  
"That's to the whole apartment building. The other levels have been repurposed just for you, boss's orders. I'll see you again at the end of your stay, Mr. le Pew."

And with that, he drove off; leaving me to wonder just how strong was this man who was helping out the organization I worked for?

But I waved the thought away. It wouldn't be getting an answer any time soon. I focused on getting everything squirreled away inside and unpacked.

The first two boxes were not particularly heavy, and I got them in with no problems. But the other four were excessively heavy, and when I opened them, they had metal boxes inside the cardboard ones. Safes. Now what would be so important to send to me in a safe through the delivery service?

I didn't focus on that too much; all would be clear in time, as it always was. So I put them in the kitchen off to the side. They were out of the way, and hopefully they wouldn't pull on my attention too much.

Now, with the key to the upstairs rooms, I decided to finish exploring. On the second floor I came into a bed room with a single bed and not much else except for the second staircase. The walls were, once again, wood that was falling apart. At least the bed looked somewhat new, despite being small.

Through the doorway on the other side was a bathroom with a shower, a toilet, and a sink. The bathroom was rather small, and there wasn't even a mirror. But on the plus side all of the plumbing worked. At least I thought that until I turned on the shower and the drain sprayed me in the face. Beautiful.

But the third floor was the most interesting, because it was empty. No dividing walls, no furniture, nothing. It was just one big empty space. My guess was that it was supposed to be an attic.

And, surprise, there was a folding ladder in the center. But my key wouldn't open the hatch at the top. Hmm.

But I let it go. I had things to unpack and go through. I had just got here and needed to settle in before I started looking into the mysteries of the three level apartment.

I took the clothing box and set it under the stair in the bedroom, so that it would stay out of the way and I could find it when I needed it. I took the bath supplies and put them in the same place, though why I'd need a box of them was beyond me.

With everything in its place, I could finally relax. I looked at my phone and it said 8: P.M., and I knew that had to be wrong because the sun was still up outside.

And I remembered I forgot to change the time on my phone because I was in a different time zone. Plus, I didn't have an alarm clock. Oh joy. At least I'd remembered to stuff my charger in my pocket, though without a voltage adapter, it would be useless.

Well, with all the pleasantness of the day over, I turned on the TV and watched the news for a bit. A murder had occurred just a mile or so from where I was living, apparently the fourth in a line of killings involving the same person. Joy. So I turned on TNT, and surprise, CSI: MIAMI for no particular reason. So I turned on the cartoons, and I ended up getting something called 'adult swim' and it was a parody of some murder case. Was someone trying to tell me something?

I turned off the TV, and the jet lag got a hold of me really hard, probably because I'd been sleeping when we'd crossed into the US. I didn't even bother getting up to make a meal and just passed out on the couch in my travel clothes.

Detective: So that's how you got here?

Le Pew: Yes, that's how I got here.

Detective: You just follow the orders of some random person over a phone for no particular reason?

Le Pew: Oh I had a reason. It was either that or end up in jail in a foreign country for several years with no chance of parole, most likely with the violent criminals.

Detective: Ah, blackmail.

Le Pew: And I didn't really have much incentive not to listen. I kept have of whatever I made when I sold the goods.

Detective: So how much would that be?

Le Pew: Hundreds of thousands.

Detective: (whistles)

Le Pew: Unfortunately, that's the only way I made money, and it was always tight for some reason.

Detective: Taxes?

Le Pew: Probably.

Detective: So you worked for an 'organization' correct? Organized crime?

Le Pew: I'm sorry to say it, but yes.

Detective: This really doesn't help your case, doc.

Le Pew: I'm not trying to help my case; I'm trying to give you the truth.

Detective: That takes some serious balls.

Le Pew: I suppose so.

Detective: I have a few more questions I want to ask, but I think that you should go get some rest.

Le Pew: Very well, detective.

Detective: I'll be back to continue when the visiting hours open up tomorrow.

Le Pew: Detective?

Detective: Yes, Mr. le Pew?

Le Pew: Are you looking for Penny?

Detective: Yes.

Le Pew: Hmm… Well, I hope everything works out. For all of us.

Detective: Me too, Mr. le Pew. See you tomorrow.

Le Pew: See you tomorrow…detective…

**And that wraps up the first chapter of the Le Pew and the Beast short story! I hope you got the rather obvious hints I was dropping during the story. If you did, give me your guess in a review on the identity of the detective. Those who get it right will earn some props, but the FIRST person to get it will receive an appearance of the character of their choosing in one of my stories. Most likely it will be Killjoys, which I need to get back up and running again, it's the longest living story I've had.**

**So, until next time, **_**Au revoir**_** my friends.**

**(Theme song is Wake me up when September ends by Green Day)**


End file.
